Margot
Late November didn't seem the time of year for frozen yogurt, but global warming was at it again and the sun was blazing bright over the city and the temperatures were pushing close to 80 degrees. Margot was sitting outside, having arrived first and already purchasing a bowl of frozen dessert for herself. It was a Monday and there weren't many customers, so the lobby was quiet and Margot certainly didn't want bored employees listening in on her weird drama.
Her dark brown hair was left down to hang to her shoulders, tucked back so the naturally-threaded streaks of ruby red working to dominate the areas where distinguished-looking middle-aged men go gray were bared to catch the light. Dark round sunglasses with gold-colored frames protected her eyes from the bright afternoon, and she was dressed in a big white sweatshirt with 'Hear Me Roar' written across the front in large skinny black front, black shorts, and tan ankle-height boots.
It had taken nearly a month, but the near-overwhelming blaze that her resonance had been burning at was finally beginning to ebb and abate. It still set people highly uncomfortable to be around her, and treating her like a true witch any that passed by the patio in the strip mall cast her a wary glance and hurried their way along. She watched after a man and his young child as they rushed past with a mildly uncomfortable expression the first time it had happened, but was ignoring it well by the time Andres showed up, engrossed in her fruit-and-coconut covered yogurt and trying in vain to distract herself with some article on her phone.
Andrés
[how late is he? CURSED IS A FUN FLAW :D]
Dice: 1 d10 TN6 (3) ( fail )
Andrés
Thinking something must be catastrophically wrong, since Margot never calls him with the intent to just talk anymore, Andrés makes a herculean effort to get from downtown Denver to the frozen yogurt place near the house on time.
Which, of course, means he's ten minutes late. Car crash on South Havana Street. OOPS.
His Jeep goes past going about seven miles per hour under the speed limit, pulls into the parking lot, and taps its horn at something Margot can't see. Another sixty seconds pass before Dr. Sepúlveda, changed out of his scrubs and into his "why do I have to wear clothes" outfit of corduroys and a button-down shirt under a cardigan comes flying around the corner of the building.
Flop, goes the Etherite into the chair across from her. He is not wearing sunglasses. He is wearing his eyeglasses, though, and he scowls as he puts a hand up to shield his eyes.
"What the hell is that thing?" he asks.
Margot
Margot had looked up to see Andrés come tearing around the corner and into the parking lot, attention drawn to the squeal of tires and beep of the horn. She had the screen of her phone locked and covered by the flap of her case so all that was left visible was the time. He squinted at her and complained about the brightness, and she glanced down, momentarily confused, before registering what the problem was.
"Oh. Uh, sorry...?" She frowned thoughtfully, then took off her own sunglasses (squinting for a few moments but not suffering too severely otherwise) to offer them to him questioningly.
"Ah... thanks for coming. You.. didn't want any for yourself?" With a nervous gesture toward the door of the froyo shop using the shoulder of the arm dedicated to spooning froyo, as the other was occupied with the offer of relief from bright light.
Andrés
He makes a noise akin to "ah-bububububuh!" and holds up the hand not currently covering his eyes.
"Put those back on," he says. Scootches his chair until he's securely beneath the umbrella that is supposed to be offering them protection, then cools it with the threatrics for an entire ten seconds.
That's how long it takes for Margot to ask him a question about frozen yogurt.
"What?" Clearly the thought hadn't occurred to him. "I… no! No no no, if I wanted yogur helado I wouldn't come all the way out to fucking Aurora." Here comes the flask. "What's going on?"
Margot
The glasses slid back over her nose and eyes, and Margot spooned more of the melting froyo into her mouth while waiting for her old Mentor to make up his mind about getting yogurt or not. It took a dozen seconds, so she got two bites in before he decided that no, duh, he was here to talk. So she wiped her mouth with the napkin that her phone kept safe from any breeze that may kick up (though there was none to be found just now), pinned it safely again, and folded her hands into her lap.
"The other night I got a call," she started, and looked down at her bowl of yogurt and a raspberry sliding down the melting mound. "It was a man, and he--... he said he's my dad."
Her fingers were rubbing nervously along the hem of her shorts legs, and she glanced up to the Doc's face to gauge his reaction before continuing, keeping her eyes up now but her hands still doing their nervous thing. "He said he's reaching out because he found out I do magick. Apparently he can too, except he calls it 'doing miracles'; apparently he's in the Celestial Chorus."
Her expression was cringing a little, like she wasn't sure what she was supposed to make of that information or what others (Doc) would in turn. Her hands became still when she folded them together and made them set in place in her lap. "And he said he's gonna be arriving tomorrow."
Andrés
By now, both Margot and Ned (and probably Will, although Will has spent most of the time he has been in the cabal, by Doc's approximation, lying on the couch in a coma or some other liminal stage between consciousness and Quiet) have figured out that their former mentor has days where he can't sit still because of all the things he has buzzing through his head, and he has fewer days where he is able to focus on what is right in front of him.
It's his Avatar, to some extent. He is, however, a Visionary, a madman who is living in a future that is brighter and better than the one they're in now and needs other people to keep him grounded in reality. Desperately needs other people, and will never admit it.
In spite of the bracing slug of tequila he takes before she answers, Margot can see flinty patience in his eyes when she looks at him. He's rankled, suspecting straightaway that this man is trying to take advantage of her.
--apparently he's in the Celestial Chorus.
The Etherite visibly refluxes, grimacing before swallowing stomach acid back down his esophagus and announcing his reaction with a small burp and a "Blegh!
And he said he's going to be arriving tomorrow.
Silence and stillness for a grand total of three before Doc sighs and offers Margot his flask. Whether or not she takes it:
"And what'd you say?"
Margot
Margot's mouth was a grim line, her jaw clenched, while she waited for his answer. But her gaze was steady on his face, at least until he offered the flask and her gaze was drawn to follow the gesture. A single nervous laugh of relief -- "ha!" -- was given before she accepted the flask and sniffed the top before taking a single solid swig. She shuddered and flinched as it went down and settled warm in her belly, and handed it back.
What did she say? She took her spoon in hand once more and looked down to gather yogurt up on it, meticulously ensuring she had proportions of fruit and coconut flake included as she did.
"That I didn't want him coming by the house. And not a lot else." She paused, frowning, and lifted the spoon partway before continuing speaking instead of taking the bite. "I didn't want to reveal too much, and I didn't want to start asking big questions over the phone like that either. But I don't really know what he wants-- he says to reconnect, and that it's now instead of sooner because I'm Awake now, but..." She scowled and set the spoon back down, well-crafted bite abandoned for now. Looked back up to Doc with an all-too familiar worried scowl creasing her forehead.
"That tells me that he's after my magick and not a father-daughter bond, you know? Otherwise it shouldn't be the triggering event for contact. I find the whole thing suspicious. And..." Her big eyes went watery-- it was inevitable, really, but at least they hadn't yet spilled and she didn't break out blubbering immediately. "I'm fucking scared of him knowing about Mom and Luke..."
Andrés
"No no no, it's... don't... hang on..."
He rummages through his pockets, which requires him to remove shit from said pockets. Keys, coins, a stopwatch, pens, two spark plugs, a scalpel, and the ID-ifier that he uses to forge driver's licenses and otherwise break into places he's not supposed to be hit the wrought iron table before he finds a handkerchief. Before he hands it to her, he sniffs it.
It's fine. Smells like bleach.
"Nothing's gonna happen to your mom, even if he does know."
Luke is a whole other pile of crap the kids are going to have to deal with on their own thank you very much Ned. He considers his next words carefully, then sighs. Takes a swig.
"I have a daughter. About your age, actually. Had her young, her mother worked while I went to school, we got married because eh, her mother, you know, she was Verbena, and she was always… whatever. It's not important. Point is, I did a lot of things I can't take back. If I didn't ruin her life, I came pretty damn close. But I never walked out on her. And if she wants to go the rest of her life without having a relationship with me, that's… she's grown. She has the right to make choices, and not have her fucked up father calling out of nowhere saying he's gonna show up the next day because--"
Not so much reflux this time as it is anticipation of it.
"'Miracles'… que coño..."
Margot
The crease to her forehead and brow softened as she listened to Doc tell her the story of his daughter. Of the fact that she was estranged because he did something (Something) to fuck it all up and drive her away. But his story didn't end with some example of how maybe her dad's motivation was pure, because he could relate to him from the position of the estranged father. Rather, it threw into light the fact that he wasn't going to pull what Martin Travers just had by trying to interject himself into her life out of the blue.
The handkerchief was accepted, sniffed, then used to dab the corners of her eyes and catch the tears before they have a chance to start streaming and trigger hiccuping sobs along with them. She took a deep shuddering breath to pull herself back together, dabbed the occasional tear that tried to well up, and continued.
"I'm... I'm gonna have to see him tomorrow. I don't want him coming by the house, Ned and Will getting involved and all defensive and shit. See what he has to say for himself, try to figure out what he really wants. ...see how much he already knows."
Andrés
"You see how much better your plans are when you leave those two at home?"
Like she learned an important lesson today. Or something. The lesson he brought to the table was to hell with your father, fathers can be pieces of shit and you don't owe them anything.
Yet he seems to approve. For whatever that's worth.
"Will you send me a--" He pantomimes furious thumb-texting to indicate the word that's suddenly flown from his vocabulary. "--a… a… a thingy if you need help?" A hard clearing of his throat, like the word got stuck in there. "Please?"
Margot
The praise is seen for what it is, and it takes the witch a little aback. She's surprised each time she's reminded that she's not doing a terrible job as a Mage, and though it certainly isn't the first time that her ex-Mentor has revealed pride or approval (even if in his own way), she still blinked a few times while recognizing and processing before a small smile crawled onto her face. She looked back down at her yogurt, gathered the bite up once more, and this time followed through with eating it too.
With the yogurt in her mouth while she was trying to answer, Margot nodded in assurance even as he was making the gesture for texting, recognizing and simultaneously agreeing to the question in that moment. Soon after, she spoke affirmation as well. "Of course. I trust you when it comes to pulling my bacon out of the pan. I mean... You came here today." She blushed, a small flare of it on her cheeks and ears, and leaned down to take another big bite.
Andrés
"A whole eight miles. Hang on, let me call the Sun, see if they'll post an article about my heroic feat of heroism, driving eight miles in sunny weather to--you want another one of those things?" To his feet he goes, oblivious to her blushing. "I changed my mind, I came all the way out here, I might as well procure the froyo."
Nobody is going to believe you, Margot.
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